


Motive to Suppress

by katjh



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Gang Rape, M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Slavery, Slave Trade, Torture, Violence, possibly underage?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katjh/pseuds/katjh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Male omegas are rare and heavily desired, which makes them targets for human trafficking and the sex slave trade. Bruce has been hiding that he's an omega since he first discovered it. But he needs a supply of suppressants, and that means one person knows, and that means that Bruce is found out, and taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this avengerkink prompt, but with Bruce/Tony: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17385.html?thread=39020777#t39020777

_I can give you the suppressants tomorrow,_ Bruce reads. He puts his phone down in relief and stares at the ceiling. His best friend and fellow omega, Betty, has always been good about keeping Bruce's secret and helping him out ever since Bruce had his first heat. He knows how most male omegas end up; the news reports on them all the time, and whenever another goes missing there's a big discussion about the human trafficking and slave trade.

 

Bruce doesn't want to become another statistic, so he's only let Betty know so far. As far as anyone else is concerned, Bruce is just another beta.

 

Another wave of heat rolls through his body and he groans. Bruce has already soaked through his sheets once during this cycle and he doesn't much look forward to doing so again. And besides, he can't let his father know he's an omega. He doesn't really believe Brian Banner would sell his own son into slavery, but when the man hits the bottle, he's unpredictable.

 

Bruce rolls onto his stomach and buries his face in his pillow. If it wasn't for this stupid heat, he would be at school right now, and maybe he'd make valedictorian next year, and then he'd be set to go to college and get a job working at Stark Industries. Instead, he's sweating and rutting against his bed. He falls into a fitful sleep and is awoken by the buzz of his phone as it receives a text from Betty.

 _I'm outside, let me in_ , it says. Bruce rubs at his eyes. He knows it can't be the next day already, but he thinks that maybe Betty managed to get suppressants early. He walks downstairs softly and opens the door.

 

It takes several seconds for him to recognize Mr. Ross, Betty's father, but by then it's too late. The man has clapped a rag soaked in chloroform over Bruce's nose and mouth and everything is going foggy.

His last thoughts before the darkness takes him are wondering if Betty would ever sell him out.

 

 

–

 

 

Bruce wakes up in a cell. The floor and walls are concrete. The cot he's lying on has a thin, lumpy mattress that seems to have been made to be uncomfortable no matter how he lies on it. The only light comes from a bare bulb on the ceiling.

He's still in heat, too, and he bites down on the edge of the threadbare blanket to muffle his desperate moans.

 

It's not enough. The men outside have heard, and they know Bruce is awake.

"How about that?" one says, opening up the door and stepping inside. There are four more men, and they stand in the doorway watching. They all have a gleam in their eyes and lecherous smiles. Bruce wants nothing more than to hide behind his cot, but he knows it'll do no good. They all smell of alpha, of authority and power.

"We prefer to get them younger," the man goes on, sitting down next to Bruce. Bruce edges away and the man lets him. "Thirteen, fourteen, their first heat. Easier to train them up to be the perfect omegas for our clients." He leans in and sniffs Bruce's neck. Bruce knows he must reek of fear, even over the scent of heat. "You'll do though. We'll have you... _Begging_ to be taken."

Something in the way the man speaks sends a shiver through Bruce's body. The man grins. He thinks it's a shiver of desire, maybe, but it's pure fear on Bruce's part.

"These boys will satiate you through your first heat in the facility," the man says, nodding to the four men gathered in the doorway. "They'll teach you how to make pretty noises and take a cock up your ass in any position your future master may like. But they won't knot you," he goes on. "Most of our clients prefer to be the first and only ones to knot their omegas." He curls his arm over Bruce's shoulders and pulls him in close. "You'll be a good boy for them, won't you? You wouldn't want to see what happens when you... Disobey."

Bruce swallows and shakes his head. What else can he do?

"Good." The man stands up and jerks his head from the men in the doorway to Bruce. "Train him," he says, and leaves.

 

The way the alphas approach him is predatory and frightening, and despite all of Bruce's efforts to curl up and keep them from taking him, they overpower him. They are full-grown alphas and he's just a high school omega in heat. They push him down onto his hands and knees and shove his pants down. Bruce is wet and loose from his heat and all he can do is scream when the alpha breaches his hole.

"Not like that," one of them says. Bruce can't be sure which. He's sobbing and the tears make it impossible to see. "Don't cry. Moan like you want it. You're an omega. You're greedy for alpha cock. You were born to take it."

Bruce sniffles and cries out again, and this time he gets a slap across the face.

"You'll listen to us or we'll hit harder," the alpha says. Bruce bites his lip. The tears still stream down his cheeks, but he lets out whimpers now that the alphas seem to approve of, and despite his fear and discomfort and the fact that he's being completely violated, they've coaxed his cock into hardness. They make him cum three times and continue fucking him even when his body ceases to produce slick, his heat wearing itself out.

"You're learning," one of the alphas says, tossing a towel to Bruce when they're finished with him. They've all taken at least one turn fucking him. Sometimes he's on his hands and knees and sometimes he's on his back. That's the worst. They make him look into their eyes, and if he turns away then one of the other alphas will grab his jaw and force him to look at the one fucking him.

"Clean up after yourself," says another alpha. "Omegas need to be clean and presentable for their masters."

 

They slam the door behind them, and Bruce sits in a puddle of slick and cum, sobbing until he hiccups and can't produce any more tears, and then he starts wiping the mixed fluids from his thighs and stomach, towel dampened from the sink in the corner. He leaves the wet towel in a pile on the floor and curls up on his cot. His eyes are red and swollen from crying and he aches, especially his ass and thighs, but he's got time now to sleep.

A part of him thinks that if he just gets trained faster, if he learns well, they'll give him to a gentle alpha who will care for him and let him study. He holds onto that thought like a stuffed animal and eventually he falls asleep.

 

–

 

They return on the next day – or what Bruce assumes is the next day. He hasn't been fed yet, and his stomach is grumbling loudly. He feels hollow inside. He's been drinking from his cupped hands, letting them fill up with water from the sink next to the toilet, but it does nothing to curb his hunger.

 

The men haven't brought food though. They've brought their own sexual appetites and they take Bruce again. They call it teaching.

"You hungry?" one asks, and Bruce nods, fooled for a second into thinking they'll feed him. The alpha just unzips his pants and forces his cock into Bruce's mouth. "Swallow my cum and we'll see about feeding you."

Bruce has no idea how to suck cock, but he makes an effort. Very quickly he ends up taking the alpha too deep and he gags. All that's in his stomach to bring up is water though, so he just pulls off and coughs and gets a smack on the back of his head.

"Suck."

Bruce has no technique. It's sloppy and he's drooling everywhere, but he keeps his teeth covered because he doesn't want to be hit and he just wants some food.

This is what he's being reduced to, he realizes as the alpha comes down his throat and forces him to swallow. Semen drips from his lips anyway.

"Did you like that?" the man asks, tipping Bruce's tear-stained face up. "Say, 'yes, alpha'."

Bruce stammers it out. It takes three repetitions before the alpha is satisfied, and then they bring out a tray of food. It's nothing special: cold turkey on wheat or something and a pile of lukewarm veggies on the side. Bruce eats it ravenously anyway, like it's the best meal he's ever had.

It gets the taste of the alpha's dick out of his mouth, at least.

 

"Look, omega, if you do a good job, you get better food," one says. He seems to be amused by the way that Bruce is eating the tiniest crumbs from his sandwich. In the back of his mind, Bruce is embarrassed. What he knows is that he's trying to survive. He doesn't want to suffer. He's afraid of the hits that will come, and the feeling of starvation. His stomach is still mostly empty, and even though he's sure the next meal won't come until the alphas have fucked him again, he hopes for one soon.

He doesn't know what he's becoming.

 

_(_ _D_ _eep inside he does he's a good boy good omega such a cockslut needing begging to be fucked he'll do anything for a fuck.)_

 

–

 

The alphas – they have names that Bruce has heard now – come back again after a few hours, when the energy from the food has managed to bring Bruce's heat back on. The tall, quiet one who likes to fuck Bruce from behind is Mark. The shorter one who enjoys telling Bruce how to behave is Drew. The last one, the one who made Bruce suck him off, is Tomas.

And to them, Bruce is "omega" or "boy" or "slut".

 

"Suck his cock again, omega," says Drew. Despite being the wordy one, he's not really in charge. That's Tomas.

Bruce settles on his knees in front of Tomas and, with shaking hands, starts to open the alpha's pants.

"Not like that," Tomas growls. Bruce tries not to shrink away. The last time he did that, he got hit. "You want my cock, don't you? Desperate for alpha cock? Act like it."

Bruce tries again. He steadies his hands and opens Tomas's pants and clumsily takes out the alpha's dick using his mouth. It hardens between his cheeks and on his tongue.

Mark comes up behind Bruce and kicks him until Bruce lifts his ass up. It's almost impossible to concentrate on the task when Mark is opening Bruce up roughly with two fingers and Drew is coaching Bruce on how to give a blowjob.

"You wanna suck cock like a good omega bitch, don't you? Use your tongue, go on, and relax your throat. He's gonna go balls deep into your mouth and Mark's gonna be balls deep in your tight ass. You want that. You need it. All omegas need it."

"Fuckin' take it," Mark grumbles, and slides in suddenly. Bruce can't cry out because Tomas is fucking his mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of Bruce's throat. He can barely breathe.

Then Drew, talking all the while, starts stretching Bruce's hole to slide his own dick in, and Bruce knows the tears are streaking down his face. There's nothing he can do but let them take him, again and again.

 

Somehow, he satisfies them. His throat is raw and sore and his back aches. His hole burns from the abuse it took. They've left him on the floor again with a towel and a tray of food.

It isn't much.

"You're learning," Mark says.

 

–

 

Bruce's heat can't last forever. When it subsides, Bruce learns how to give good head. He sucks cock for so long that he finds it impossible to speak, and his lips and throat are red and swollen. There are bruises on his shoulders and the back of his neck from being gripped so hard when the alphas fuck his mouth.

He learns how to keep himself clean and trimmed for his master. He learns how to grovel and scrape and beg and look pretty even when he's got a black eye and split lip.

He takes his beatings. He learns more than he ever wanted to know about whips, paddles, floggers, butt plugs, clamps, and cock rings.

He learns that just because he isn't in heat, it doesn't mean he can't be fucked. He learns what it's like for the alphas to go in dry.

 

He learns to lose all sense of time and self. The male omega is just a fucktoy, a cockslut, a good boy for his alpha master.

 

And because sometimes female alphas will take a male omega, he learns how to pleasure a woman with his tongue, his hands, and his cock.

 

He learns that when he's done well, they'll give him meat that isn't dry and vegetables that haven't been burnt. He gets a Coke one day.

 

He learns that they've found a master for him. The omega has been at the facility for over a year (not that he knows this – he cannot even measure time by his heats anymore), and he has learned well. He is sold to a man, a powerful alpha with money and a temper.


	2. Chapter 2

 "Stark."

"Hammer."

They glare at each other with undisguised loathing. This has always been how they are. It would be a staring contest if Tony Stark wasn't wearing his sunglasses.

Hammer smirks suddenly. "Still unattached?" he asks. The fact that it's posed as a question is the only thing that suggests Hammer hasn't scented Tony, but Tony wouldn't put it past him at all. He doesn't wait for an answer. "I've got an omega. Sweet, perfect boy. He's been well-trained."

Tony's eyes widen behind his sunglasses as he takes in the meaning of those words. "I enjoy the bachelor life," he says lightly.

Hammer raises his eyebrows. "Ever had a male omega, Stark? They're soft like women but they're more than that. There's nothing like them on this earth. You could fuck every beta male on the planet, every omega female, and it would never compare to being buried in the tight wet ass of one of these boys."

Tony's mind is racing. He's got two drinks in his system and would already be inclined to do something risky anyway, but now the liquid courage is coursing through his veins. "That right?" he asks, keeping his tone casual and a little dismissive. "No, never had one. They're kind of rare, you know. But keep on talking like that and I may think you're offering me your boy for a night."

Hammer rises to the bait. "Oh, he'll only take my knot – he was _made_ for my knot, Stark – but I'll let you see him, hold him, smell him. If your Ms. Potts will let you off your leash long enough to get out of this benefit and over to my place."

"She won't notice," Tony says hurriedly. "She would have gotten me by now. Besides, I've donated enough money that the organizers won't care if I run off in the middle of it. Let's see this boy of yours."

"After you," Hammer says, motioning towards the door, and Tony goes. He hates having Hammer walk behind him; it's like being herded, and it gives the scumbag ample opportunity to stab Tony in the back (which Hammer wouldn't do, of course – Tony knows that fucker wants to see Tony suffer and be bested). It puts all his instincts, especially the alpha ones, on high alert.

 

All Hammer does though is follow Tony out and pause at the coat check for his expensive jacket. Tony doesn't bother getting his. It would probably alert Pepper to his absence. They walk outside, and Tony pretends he doesn't feel the chill. The driver brings Hammer's car, a sleek black limo that Tony thinks is probably rented, up for them and opens the door for them. Hammer slides in first and finds a tiny bottle of champagne in the back, which he opens and pours into glasses.

Tony pretends to drink his. Most of it ends up on the floor of the limo while he listens to Hammer brag about his boy and how good of a fuck he is. So tight, wet, warm. He takes Hammer's knot beautifully and he was _born_ to suck cock.

"I keep him on the edge of heat," Hammer goes on, pouring more champagne into his glass. He holds out the bottle for Tony, who declines. "Obviously he can't _always_ be in heat, but it can very easily be induced. His body needs a rest if he's almost constantly in heat, so I make sure to give him a month or two in between heats. It seems to be working well. Of course, I've only had him for six months." Hammer empties his glass again. "I think you'll quite enjoy him, Stark. He's such a pretty boy, and he'll be in heat in a few days. I can smell it on him."

The car stops, and after a moment, the driver comes round to the back and opens up the door on Hammer's side. Hammer gets out, maybe just a little unsteadily, and Tony follows him. They walk up to the doors of Hammer's New York residence, which is attached to his main building, and the driver lets them in.

 

Hammer pauses for another drink in the living room and Tony tries not to show his impatience. But then, suddenly, a man comes in with an omega, who kneels on the floor and keeps his head down and his arms crossed behind his back.

Tony's mouth falls open and he closes it quickly. This is a _boy_ , probably not even legal. He bears signs of a beating – of several beatings – on his neck and arms. His chest is bare and there are red scratches and dark bruises that stand out on his skin. He's trembling, just barely.

"Boy, I've got someone for you to meet," Hammer says. He puts down his glass and walks over to the omega, cups the boy's cheek. Hammer tilts the boy's head upwards. "What do you think of our guest?"

The boy's eyes dart from Hammer's face to Tony's. There's terror in them as he looks at Tony, but then his eyes go blank and he mumbles, "How should I service you, master?"

Hammer taps him on the cheek a little harder than necessary. "You'll let Tony touch you. I'll watch. Be good for our guest, boy." The omega nods and Hammer beckons Tony over. "Go on, have a look. Feel him."

Feeling slightly sick, Tony goes over. He runs his fingers through the boy's hair and examines his neck and face. He pretends he's turned on, but really he's taking inventory of the boy's injuries. He pauses as he walks around the boy, and Hammer purses his lips. "Boy, take off your pants," Hammer says. "Let our guest see you."

The boy pulls down his pants and gets down on his hands and knees. There are hand and finger-shaped bruises on his hips and buttocks. His cock hangs limp between his legs. Tony can't see the omega's hole, but he'd be willing to bet it's red and irritated from being fucked. He can just about scent the beginnings of heat, so he steps back and nods at Hammer.

Hammer gestures for the boy to get dressed again and leave. They both watch, Hammer with undisguised lust and Tony with a carefully blank look, as the boy is taken away.

"I want him," Tony says when the omega is gone.

Hammer laughs. "I can give you the information of the men who procured him for me if you'd like an omega of your own," he says.

Tony shakes his head. "That boy. I want _him._ "

Hammer seems to sober up in an instant. "He's mine," he says. "I paid for him."

"I'll pay double." Tony pours out a scotch and hands it to Hammer. "I think you can part with the boy for that sum."

Hammer takes the glass of scotch but doesn't drink it. "The boy is mine," he says. "Did you see how perfect he is for me? He's been trained to my specifications, to do with as I wish. I won't give him to you."

"I'm not asking you to _give_ the boy to me," Tony growls. "I'll pay for him. Two and a half times what you paid."

Hammer seems to be getting interested. It takes hours, and by then Tony has fourteen missed calls from Pepper and he's out five and a quarter times what Hammer first paid for the boy, but none of that matters to him.

 

The boy is terrified and confused as he's led out again, this time to Tony's car.

 

"What have you _done_?" Pepper asks when Tony gets in with the boy.

Tony picks up his coat, which Pepper had left on the seat, and wraps it around the boy. "It's all right," he says.

 

–

 

Bruce tries to make sense of what happened. He'd been good, hadn't he? Master had loved fucking him, had even stopped hitting him quite as often. And now he had an entirely new master, a man with a goatee and a red-haired woman – not his wife or bondmate, Bruce noted, scenting the air – who yelled at him.

Bruce wasn't supposed to listen to conversation not directed at him, so he tried not to eavesdrop. But the car's windows were tinted and there really wasn't anything else to do, so his ears picked up the words and pretty soon he was actively listening.

"I don't _care_ , Tony. You can't do this!" the red-haired woman exclaimed. Her voice was shrill and full of worry.

"Pepper, please!" The man – Tony – was talking over her, or attempting to. "I know what you must think, but it's not – it isn't that, okay?"

"Just disappearing during the charity and you were supposed to make a speech – "

"I had to! Hammer was bragging about this boy, and for god's sake, how was I supposed to know there was a spee – "

"Because I _told_ you last week, and every day up until this charity because I _knew_ – "

"What was I supposed to say, I didn't have anything prepared – "

"You _know_ Hammer just goes to talk to you to make you do something completely stupid. He loves to get a rise out of you."

"This time it was real! And why didn't you rescue me from him if you're so worried about what he'd say that would make me do something crazy?"

" – talking about his love life or whatever, and I thought you bragged about not being bonded, and for what it's worth, I was trying to work out a _business deal_ with an investor – "

"It's a charity benefit, Pepper! You can't do business deals at charit – no, you know what? Never mind. I just completed my own charitable act."

The red-haired woman's mouth falls open and she stares, dumbfounded, at Tony. "What?!"

Tony wraps his arm around Bruce's shoulders and Bruce flinches. Tony instantly lifts his arm. "This boy," he says, voice low, "is an omega. You can smell it on him if you bothered to breathe during that little tirade. And Hammer _bought_ him. Hammer actively took part in omega trafficking and sex slavery, Pep! I'm rescuing him."

Bruce's heart skips a beat and he forgets to breathe for a moment. Everything seems to go dark and fuzzy and sound like it's underwater. By the time he's got his breathing under control and his heart isn't doing funny things, Tony and Pepper are discussing what they're going to do with him and none of it seems to be "fuck him 'til he screams."

"Do we know where he was kidnapped from?" Pepper asks.

Tony wipes his face with his hand. "Oh, god, I don't even know his name."

"Bruce." His voice is raw and hoarse, and he clears his throat. "Bruce Banner," he says again. "That's my name." The two just stare at him, so he goes on, "I don't... I don't know if I can go home."

 

–

 

Bruce is taken inside an enormous building and brought into an elevator that shoots up so fast Bruce feels like it's left his stomach behind thirty floors below. Pepper and Tony have been quiet since Bruce spoke, like they're trying to wait for that last sentence to sink in properly.

They step out of the elevator into what's obviously some sort of living area. Outside, Bruce can see New York laid out below. Tony says, "If you want a shower, there's a bathroom and towels just down the hall. I won't go in with you. And there's food, too. Well, there will be. I can't cook. How does pizza sound?" He's careful not to touch Bruce at all, standing a good distance away.

Bruce looks down the hall carefully. He can't see anyone else. "I like pizza," he says cautiously. "Veggie. No meat."

Tony's expression changes to one of curiosity, but he doesn't ask. Pepper smiles at Bruce and says, "If you don't want to shower, you don't have to. We have some clean clothes though. They're Tony's, so I don't know how well they'd fit."

Bruce tugs the coat tighter around himself. "I'm fine." He still has no idea what he's doing here. He can't believe that they'd save him. After all, Tony came to look at him in his master's home.

The two just watch Bruce for a while before Pepper mumbles something about meeting the delivery boy downstairs and steps into the elevator again. Bruce tries not to panic about being left alone with an alpha, but he's not very good at it. His breath comes too quickly and he feels cornered.

"Whoa, it's okay," Tony says. He's still standing far away, behind a counter that seems to be a bar. "I'm not gonna touch you or anything. I... I hate Hammer, all right? I would never... You're just a kid, aren't you? God, omega trafficking... I never knew they took _kids_."

Bruce swallows. "I'm not a kid," he says. He walks up to Tony, looks into his eyes, then kisses him. It's cautious at first, just Bruce trying to figure things out, but then he makes it an open-mouthed kiss, and Tony's returning it, tasting like alcohol – and then Tony shoves him away.

"I can't do this," Tony says. He shakes his head. "Bruce, you're... I don't want... You're not my omega, okay?"

Tony's going to sell him. There's nowhere for Bruce to run up here. He should have run as soon as they brought him out of the car – or even before, when they took him out of Hammer's home. He can't _be_ here, he has to leave. He runs down the hall and into the bathroom and locks the door.

He can't hear any footsteps following him, but he cowers in the giant bathtub anyway, watching the door and trying to silence his sobs.


	3. Chapter 3

 "I fucked up. I scared him and he locked himself in the bathroom and hasn't come out," Tony says. He shakes his head. "I don't... He's terrified, Phil."

Phil Coulson, a detective specializing in finding and bringing down sex slave organizations, doesn't bother to tell Tony not to call him by his first name. "You should have called us first thing," he says, glancing at the closed bathroom door. "I know you've got Fury's number."

"Yeah, and he's scary," Tony says. He pours another drink and empties it down his throat. "I'm sorry. Are you gonna be able to help him? Do I need to leave?"

Coulson frowns. "I think... Look, most omegas we rescue were heavily abused by male alphas. It's not you, Tony. I think if you stay out of sight and let us try to talk to him, he'll be okay."

"I wanted to save him," Tony says.

"You did a good job." The words come from Natasha Romanoff, part of Coulson's team. Tony can't place her scent, but it's certainly not alpha. He's pretty sure she's using something to disguise her scent. It isn't uncommon, especially in the police force. "But you can't just ask him to tell you everything. He's been subjected to rape and torture for a long time, made to be believe that he's just a fucktoy for alphas and they'll never want anything more from him. That's why we're here. We'll be able to make him feel safe."

Tony nods. He's pretty sure that Fury's an alpha, but Coulson, Barton, and Romanoff don't smell like alphas. They could all be disguising their scents, of course. "Help him out, okay?"

"We will," Barton promises. He's reading something off his phone, and when he puts it down, Tony notices it's a missing child file. Barton locks his phone and says, "If the name Tony's given us is right, then the boy is Robert Bruce Banner, age 17, heading for valedictorian in his class. Very interested in the hard sciences. Got an award for some physics project, even. He went missing just over a year ago, reported by his father. Now, Brian Banner isn't exactly the most upstanding of fathers. There are reports of domestic abuse and he's spent a few nights in the drunk tank. He was genuinely concerned for his son though."

Coulson shrugs. "Could have reported Bruce missing so he wouldn't be suspected of selling him to the slave trade."

Barton shakes his head. "He didn't know his kid was an omega. Bruce hid his sheets and clothes during heat. They only found out while getting some DNA and doing the workup, so investigators went to his house and found things stuffed under his bed. The window was open in his room so it wouldn't smell like heat, and there were air fresheners hidden all over the room."

Romanoff drums her fingers on the counter. "I'll go talk to him first," she says. "He might be a bit more accepting of a woman than a man."

"Ask him if there's anyone he wants us to contact," Barton says. "I'm not sure I want to send him back to his dad."

Romanoff looks to Coulson, who nods, and then she sets off down the hallway. She knocks lightly on the bathroom door.

"Bruce? I'm from the police department. My name is Natasha Romanoff. May I come in?"

There's a rustling noise from inside the bathroom, like someone crawling across the floor. The strip of light showing beneath the door darkens. After some silent moments, the lock clicks and the door opens a crack.

"You're not an alpha," the boy says. He really is just a boy. His eyes are red and puffy, and he looks underfed.

Natasha smiles kindly. "No," she says. "I'm a detective from the NYPD." She holds up her badge, and Bruce's hand darts out and grabs it. He examines it closely and then hands it back.

"Are you going to arrest them?" Bruce asks.

Natasha nods. "But we need you to help us find them."

 

It's only been a few minutes, but Bruce and Natasha walk back into the living room. Bruce is wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt and stays behind Natasha. He's still skittish, but he doesn't try to run, and in fact he makes eye contact with Tony.

"I want to help you," Bruce says. He sits down on the couch and curls up, hugging his knees to his chest. "But I wanna stay here."

"That's fine with me," Tony says. He looks at Coulson, who licks his lips and frowns.

"Tony, I'd like to speak with Bruce alone. Could you...?"

Tony nods and gestures awkwardly at the elevator. "I'll just, um... Yeah." He steps into the elevator and Coulson waits until it's gone down several floors before walking over to Bruce.

"Bruce, I want to make sure you understand that you don't owe Tony anything. You don't have to go home to your father, but you don't have to stay here either. There are shelters and support groups for victims of the sex trade. You can even stay with a detective," Coulson says, kneeling down next to the couch.

Bruce shakes his head. "He's Tony Stark," he says quietly. "I always wanted to meet him. Work for him, maybe. I want to stay."

"All right," says Coulson. He stands up. "You're going to talk to Detectives Romanoff and Barton – Natasha and Clint, if you prefer. They'll ask you a lot of questions about your kidnapping. If you ever feel uncomfortable or want to stop, let them know. I understand Tony ordered pizza, so you'll get to eat that while you talk. Is there anything you want to drink? There may be Coke behind the bar."

"Is there tea?" Bruce asks shyly.

"There must be," says Natasha. "Pepper drinks it all the time."

Coulson volunteers to find it, and Clint sits down on the floor in front of Bruce. "All right, Bruce, whenever you're ready. I'm gonna be taking notes and maybe even drawing the people you describe. I may show you pictures of them. If you need to stop, you just tell us. And if we feel like you need to stop, we won't ask you any more questions. All right?"

"Yeah." Bruce swallows thickly. Tony comes out of the elevator with pizza that's steaming, but he waits near the bar until Natasha motions him over. Tony looks like he'll just leave the box of pizza and leave, but Bruce makes him sit down next to him on the couch. He picks up a piece of pizza with one hand, and with the other he reaches for Tony's. "Where should I start?" Bruce asks.

 

–

 

It's almost four in the morning when the detectives leave. Bruce is tired and his stomach is fuller than he can remember it being in a long, long time. He's still holding Tony's hand.

Tony pulls his hand away though. "Look, Bruce... I, uh. I know you're grateful to me and everything, but you don't have to do anything. Really."

Bruce stares at his feet. "Do you not want me?" he asks quietly.

"Oh, god," Tony groans. He looks up at the ceiling. "No, Bruce, I... I don't want to pressure you into anything. You're not a slave anymore, okay? You don't belong to me. I just... I like you. And your brain. I looked up that physics project you did and was really impressed. Wait, that's not the... You're free, Bruce. To do whatever you want."

Bruce bites his lip. "I want you." Because he _does_ , and he's had a crush on Tony Stark for a while now, and it's always been his dream to work for him.

Tony paces the room, running his hands through his hair and glancing over at the bar where there are fifty bottles of good alcohol just waiting for him. He can't make these sorts of decisions sober. He can't make them drunk either. It's too much. "I'm not a good alpha," he says.

"You are," Bruce insists. "I've seen the bad ones." He's quiet for a few moments. "You can... I don't mind waiting. I'm not gonna change my mind. I know you think I'm young and damaged goods – "

"You're not damaged goods!" Tony yells, and Bruce flinches at the noise. "Sorry," Tony says softly.

"I feel safe with you," Bruce says. "That's never happened. I've always been afraid when my heat's about to start, but now I feel... I feel like I'm wrapped in something warm and sheltering. And everything's gonna be okay."

Tony takes a deep breath. "I think I know what you mean," he says. He reaches out and takes Bruce's hand. It's warm and a little scarred from chemicals and Bunsen burners and captivity. Tony squeezes Bruce's hand reassuringly. Everything's gonna be okay, he thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. It was tough to figure out how to end this, so here's how it's gonna go. I'm going to write a sorta PWP sequel with Bruce/Tony, and I may also write one focusing on the investigation and bringing down the omega trafficking organization. That fic would focus more on the investigators (Coulson, Fury, Clint, Natasha), but rest assured that Bruce and Tony will make appearances.


End file.
